


I'm Not Worried!

by safety_dancer



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, warning: very smol Timmy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-19
Updated: 2015-09-19
Packaged: 2018-04-21 13:09:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4830245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/safety_dancer/pseuds/safety_dancer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bruce takes care of a very young Tim Drake (I'm no good at summaries sorry)</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'm Not Worried!

Bruce was not worried. Not at all. He did not lose Tim in the Manor. Nope.   
“I am not cut out for having kids,” Bruce mumbled to himself as he searched the Manor worriedly (not), for tiny three-year-old Tim Drake. He had been asked by Tim’s parents to watch the child while they went on a extensive trip to Asia for an archaeological dig. He really enjoyed being with the little squirt, but it was times like this that made him wonder why he even offered. He had fallen asleep for like three minutes, and the little tyke had vanished.   
About ten minutes later, he was searching in his room for what felt like the millionth time in the past thirty minutes, when he heard muffled laughter from his walk-in closet. Opening the door revealed Tim, giggling at his reflection in the large mirror.   
“Tim,” Bruce breathed, utterly relieved. “what are you doing in here?”   
The little boy’s big blue eyes shone with happiness, as he stood proudly in one of Bruce’s dress shirts. He was practically drowning in all the material, which Bruce found completely adorable (though he would deny that to Alfred later).   
“Bwuce! ‘m a man, now! See? ‘m wearing big clothes!”   
Bruce smiled warmly at Tim. It saddened Bruce that his parents were gone most of the time. True, they did pay attention to the kid while they were home, but it was rare that they were.   
“You sure are, Timmy. Why don’t you help me do some work, like a man would?”   
Tim was beaming, and nodded emphatically.   
“Oh, yes!”   
Bruce grabbed Tim’s little hand, dwarfed by his own large one, and led him to his office, where he had set up a small desk for the child (that’s how often he was here, and Bruce enjoyed the energetic child’s company as he worked).  
Tim ran over to his desk, and began coloring on the sheets of paper Bruce kept stocked for him.   
Bruce smiled at the sight of the tiny boy in the too big clothing, coloring away, and realized something.  
This is why he offered.


End file.
